


Forbidden

by rotg5311



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Twins, Bel - Freeform, Belphegor is into toxic men, Doctor Castiel (Supernatural), Friends to Lovers, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Human Jack Kline, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Lawyer Sam Winchester, M/M, Sam and Cas are their parents, Sastiel - Freeform, Slow Burn, Taboo, Uncle Dean Winchester, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Uncle/Nephew Incest, bad boy belphegor, jack and Belphegor are twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23745883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotg5311/pseuds/rotg5311
Summary: Dean, in a rough patch and needing help, visits his Brother he hasn't seen in 22 years. Sam and his husband Cas welcome Dean home with open arms, and an odd request to help get one of their twin sons on the right track. Much to Dean's horror feelings begin to form far little too late to do anything about.
Relationships: Belphegor/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

The beautiful stone staircase at his feet led to a house Dean had never seen in person before. The occasional Christmas card containing bits and pieces of the house formed together in his mind, yet even that seemed so… inadequate. From a distance he never would have guessed it belonged to his little Brother, but the closer he got the more the structure radiated ‘Sam’. It was the little things, he wasn’t quite sure what, but he knew Sam had a hand in the design of the house. And if not, then he had made one hell of a find, getting a magnificent house in a wonderful location that was more than likely everything he could want. It was better than the ratty little apartment Dean had last seen Sam and his then boyfriend in. And it sure as hell was better than anything Dean himself would ever own.

Staring up the staircase, Dean contemplated turning around and leaving. To do what, he wasn’t sure, but being there felt wrong. Dean was an outsider. He hadn’t seen Sam or Cas in... well it had been so long that he wasn’t even sure anymore. But he needed help and Sam was willing to provide it. Slowly he put one foot in front of the other until a thick wooden door with ornate carvings stood in front of him. Reaching out, Dean rang the doorbell, listening to the delicate chime that sounded off in place of a bell.  
A sickening feeling welled up inside him when no one answered the door. Contemplating whether or not to ring the doorbell again, Dean practically had himself convinced that he should just turn around and leave when the door swung on its hinge revealing a man that wore his little Brother’s face. Sure those were Sammy’s eyes and smile. He even had the same color hair, albeit much, much longer. But that couldn’t be Sam. Sam was short, twiggy, shy. This man loomed over Dean with broad shoulders and an air of confidence that nearly made Dean take a step back.

“Sammy?” Dean quirked an eyebrow up at the gigantor in front of him.

“It’s Sam.” His Brother protested with a beaming smile on his face.

And then Dean was being swooped into strong arms. The crushing bear hug was painful, but not just for his screaming lungs as he got a face full of the worlds ugliest plaid sweater vest, but also for his aching heart. There was a time in his life that he had practically raised Sam as a child, and now here he was, a man. And Dean had missed it.

“Sam, who’s at the-” a deep voice sounded from somewhere within the house. Dean practically pried himself away from the death grip he was in only to see another unfamiliar face he had once known so well. Castiel.

They had started off as friends once upon a time, though Dean couldn’t remember when or why it had happened. Eventually he had introduced Cas to Sam, and was surprised at how well the pair got along. It was great, really. His best friend and Brother being so close. And then Dean had found out about the secret relationship they had been trying to hide out of fear of Dean’s reaction. The only thing that hurt more than them hiding it from him was the reason why. As if he would care about anything other than them being happy.

Back when he had known Cas, the man had also been small. Looking at him now, he was still fairly short. Much smaller than Sam, but the two of them just seemed to fit. Two pieces to a puzzle of their life that Dean was about to shatter into a billion pieces. Not on purpose of course. Dean would never do that in a million years. Unfortunately, he just had that effect on everyone he loved. It was one of the reasons he had distanced himself from Sam in the first place.

“Cas.” Dean didn’t get a chance to greet him any other way before he was being pulled into another hug.

“Hello, Dean. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, man.” Dean smiled at the two of them, and if all three of them were a little misty eyed, it was no ones business but theirs.

“Come in. Jack should be home any minute. He’s very excited to meet you.” Cas told him as he led them into a sitting area. Dean plopped into a single chair opposite of Cas and Sam on a loveseat.

His heart sank. Jack. They had children that he had never met. He hadn’t even really thought about them until this second. Sam had written him a letter inviting him to the adoption hearing, or whatever the hell they did, as well as the Christening, the first Birthday, and even their first Christmas. Dean ignored it all, taking one look at the picture of wrinkly twin boys and throwing it into the trash before heading to the liquor cabinet.

“Jack. Right. Can’t wait. Is...” Dean fished the recesses of his mind for the other name. The only thing he could remember was that it had been something stupid. “Is his Brother coming, too?”

“Belphegor is-”

“Out with friends.” Sam cut Castiel off, wrapping their hands together and squeezing. Dean wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but he figured he’d find out soon. “Who knows when he’ll be back. You know how kids are.”

“Yeah.” Dean lied. He’d never had kids himself, though he had dated a few mothers here and there. Kids were supposed to be difficult, but there was a pain in Cas’ eyes Dean had never seen before. “How old are they now, anyways? Fifteen? Sixteen?”

“Nineteen.” Sam smirked at him and Dean could practically see him roll his eyes in his mind.

“What?” Nineteen just seemed so... old. Not old, obviously. Hell, they were practically still kids. But that meant Dean hadn’t seen his Brother in well over nineteen years.  
“Yeah, well, time flies.”

A click of the door prickled Dean’s ears followed by light foot steps. Tilting his body, Dean faced the entrance way to the sitting room.

“Dad’s, I’m home.” The voice called, approaching quickly. “Did I miss-“

A tall, perky boy in a brown jacket barreled through the door. Laptop in one hand and book bag in the other, he looked for a place to rest them as his eyes landed on Dean.

“Uncle Dean. I’m so sorry I missed you, class got out late and I rushed as quick as I could. Without breaking the speed limit, of course.” He nodded towards his Fathers. Then he was engulfing Dean in a firm hug. For a moment Dean let his hands hang at his sides, more stunned than anything. Then, he hugged back, though not as strongly. The boy pulled away frowning.

“I’m sorry about that, I suppose I should introduce myself first. I’m Jack, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He stuck out a hand for Dean to shake, which he did even more confused than before.

“Dean. Don’t worry about that ‘Uncle’ stuff, it makes me feel old.” He smiled at Jack, unsure of what to do with himself. It had been years since he was this uncomfortable.

“You are old, Dean.” Sam shook his head as he stood up. “Alright who wants drinks? Tea, coffee, juice, soda?”

To Dean's horror, both Jack and Cas picked tea. Trying his hardest not to wrinkle his nose in their faces, Dean asked for coffee, even letting a polite ‘please’ escape his lips. Years ago he would never say please to his own Brother. Now, he was a stranger in their home. If Sam thought it was out of place he didn’t show it.

The strong smell of coffee filled the air as Dean tried his best to make small talk with Jack. Every now and then Cas would nod or chime in with a comment, but for the most part he seemed content with watching the interaction. Dean had never really felt uncomfortable around Cas, but now it felt like he was on display. It was enough to make him squirm.

“So, kid. Tell me about school. What do you do?” Dean asked, silently sighing in relief as Sam walked back in the room, handing him his drink. Even with the heat he couldn’t help but shove his face into the cup, thankful for something to fiddle with as a distraction.

Instantly Jack’s face lit up. How, he wasn’t exactly sure, considering the boy hadn’t let that initial smile leave his face yet. Then he was off, talking as fast as Sam had done when he first told Dean he was interested in Law.

“So politics, huh?” Dean raised an eyebrow when Jack had finally slowed down enough to indicate he was ready for questions. It was the only thing Dean could think to ask, since the rest of Jack’s terminology had gone right over his head. “Not a Doctor or a Lawyer like your Dads?”

“I did think about it, but…” Jack blinked as if unsure of his next words. “It’s like being a politician is in my blood. It just feels right.”

There was a soft gasp from Castiel along with Sam tensing his shoulders. Judging by the way they changed the subject so quick, Dean knew he would have to ask about it later. Maybe they didn’t approve? That didn’t seem likely though. They seemed like the type of parents to want only the best out of their kids, and politics wasn’t Dean’s first choice, but it was still pretty great.

“Anyways, tomorrow we’re going to-” Sam started only to stop abruptly at the sound of the front door slamming. Dean saw that look flash across his Brother’s face once more. A look of… exhaustion. Like he was decades older than minutes before. Before Dean could ask about it, a loud crash came from the hall. “Great. He’s been drinking.”

When no one got up to check on the noise, Dean followed suit. Glued to the love-seat, he couldn’t take his eyes off of Sam. Anger, exhaustion, and pain all radiated through a mask of controlled passiveness. Cas on the other hand wasn’t as good at hiding his emotions from Dean. Sadness and pain wasn’t a good look on the other man and Dean wanted to know what the cause of it was. Another noise came from the hall, sounding suspiciously like a body thudding into a wall. This time Cas sighed audibly before plastering an obviously fake smile to his face.

“Belphegor, Honey, is that you?” Cas ran his hands down the front of his pants, wiping them almost nervously before grabbing onto his cup of tea like a life line.

Turning his body once more, Dean saw a figure appear in the doorway leaning against the frame. It was almost eerie looking at two versions of the same face. Not that Dean had much experience with twins, much less identical ones, but he had always assumed they had differences, no matter how subtle they were. Yet, the face across the room was an exact copy of the one next to him. But that’s where the similarities ended. Leather, and a lot of it was the first thing Dean noticed. The tight pants, the biker jacket, the heavy boots. That mixed with the self confidence practically radiating off the boy in waves and the heavy scent of alcohol he could smell from half a room away, and Dean was beginning to see just why Sam and Cas seemed so fed up. Dean knew the boys type well.

“Well, if the two of you and my better half are already accounted for, then it must be me.” If Dean had been expecting the boy to sound like Jack also, he would have been wrong. His voice was deeper, more confident, and had a slight slur to it. Though he figured that last one had to do with the kid being drunk off his ass, if the way he clung to the door frame was anything to go by. “But who’s this?”

“This is your Uncle that we were telling you about.” Sam said. Dean frowned, noticing the emphasis Sam placed on ‘Uncle.’ It was odd, but he wasn’t really sure why.

“Right.” Belphegor stared intently at Dean for another few seconds before saluting the room and disappearing up the stairs without another word.

“Well that was...” Dean started, fishing for the right word to use. He didn’t know much about their son, but he could tell the boy was bad news. How could he say anything without seeming like a dick?

“Belphegor is a handful.” Cas said, slouching in on himself. “And we were hoping that maybe you could help.”


	2. Chapter 2

“So let me get this straight,” Dean paced around the kitchen, contemplating everything Sam and Cas had told him. It was insane. And yet, they had a point. “Your son hit a rough patch or is acting out or whatever, and in order to fix that you want to put him with a bad influence? And what? Hope that scares him off the bad boy life?”

“First off, don’t imply you’re a ‘bad boy’. You’re forty-four, Dean, not sixteen. Secondly, it could be good for you, too.” Sam gave him a small smile, looking slightly uncomfortable. Dean knew he wasn’t really in a position to argue. Sam was feeding him, housing him, helping him get his life back on track. The least he could do was try and steer their kid in the right direction. It wouldn’t even be the worst thing in the world, either. If Dean could influence someone into not ruining their life, then that would be more good than he’s ever done before. He just wasn’t thrilled on their plan.

“Yeah but he’s a kid. How much do we really have in common? He’s gunna get bored of hanging out with me in a hurry.” He ran a hand through his hair, gently tugging to relieve some of the stress welling up in his chest.

“Nineteen isn’t a child.” Cas spoke up for the first time in minutes.

“He isn’t even old enough to drink.” Dean frowned once more, mildly disgusted that it was becoming one of his default settings.

“When has that ever stopped him? Or you for that matter?” Sam threw his hands up in defiance. It was true. Dean had his first drink at fourteen, snuck right out of their Father’s liquor cabinet. He didn’t start regularly drinking until seventeen. It was all downhill from there.

“We don’t expect you to go out drinking with him, Dean.” Cas rolled his eyes so hard that Dean thought they’d pop right out of his head. “In fact, if you want to drop a few hints here and there about alcohol ‘ruining your life’, it would be greatly appreciated. Exaggerate as much as you need.”

Dean wouldn’t need to exaggerate at all. Every bad decision he had ever made had a bottle of whiskey at the very core of it. But he also didn’t really want to talk about it at all. Especially not to his Brother’s son. His nephew. There were many things Dean had done in the last twenty two years that he didn’t want Sam and Cas finding out about.

“This is crazy.”

“Actually-”

“No, Cas. I don’t care about the reasoning behind it. You guys are probably right. You always are.” Which was true. The two of them had an infuriating habit of being right about everything. So if they thought this would work, then Dean would give it a shot. “I’ll do it, but I’m gunna complain the whole time.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“But really, what am I supposed to do with him?” The kid was too old for the normal run of the mill activities he would try with the various children thrown in his life. But he was also too young to do the normal adult activities Dean was used to. Mainly, drinking. Which Dean had promised Sam he would be doing less of as long as he lived under his Brother’s roof.

“Um…” The husbands looked at each other with more or less the same expressions on their faces. Clearly neither of them had planned ahead that far.

“I’m not going to lie to you Dean,” Sam shrugged before bending to take whatever delicious smelling thing Dean had his senses directed on for the last hour out of the oven. “He’s nineteen. We don’t really know what he likes to do. He doesn’t talk to us. I mean, he’s been this way for years but we hoped he’d grow out of it. Chopped it up to hormones and all that. So… Maybe just… I don’t know, get him to relate to you and take it from there?”

“Great.” Dean groaned inwardly. He definitely had his work cut out for him. Looking at Belphegor was like looking at a younger version of himself. It would be helpful information if Dean himself didn’t know just how difficult he was at that age.

“It doesn’t have to work, as long as you try.”

“Oh it’ll work, alright.” Dean assured the couple. He wasn’t sure how yet, but he had a whole untapped reserve of determination and little else to do with his time.

“No rush. But,” Sam said as he spun around the kitchen, helping Castiel prepare dinner. Cas did most of the work but Sam seemed to be adding the finer details to everything. “We’ll be out with Jack tomorrow for a college thing. And with the amount of drinking Belphegor has been doing today, I’m sure he wont be doing anything tomorrow besides sleeping and wandering down here for water. So maybe, I don’t know, say hi? Drop a small life lesson in the conversation somewhere?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he shot his Brother a thumbs up. The best plan of attack was no plan in his opinion. He’d need to feel the boy out before trying any sort of discouraging of bad behavior. Thankfully the conversation mellowed out after that.

“So you made this?” Dean said, a while later as they sat around the dinner table. He had a mouth full of the most delicious ham he had ever tasted in his life and he was savoring it. “Like, all by yourself?”

“Sam helped.” Cas told him, eyes gleaming with pride.

“I cut the potatoes, that’s all.” Sam gave his husband a goofy look and for the millionth time that day Dean felt like he was intruding on something private.

“And that helped me spend more time on the ham.”

“Well it’s amazing. Man, I can’t even remember the last time I had an actual ham. Deli meat just isn’t the same.” Dean laughed it off, noticing the flash of pain in his Brother’s eyes. It was a reminder to him of how Dean had been living for years and something Dean himself didn’t want to discuss. Especially in front of Jack. 

“Well if you like the ham,” Jack smiled up from his spot across the table. It was just the four of them and Dean was only slightly glad he hadn’t seen Belphegor all night. “Just wait until you try the pie he made for dessert.”

“Dude, yes!” He raised a hand out to high five the boy. Dean knew he was going to love it there.


	3. Chapter 3

It was well after noon before Dean heard shuffling upstairs. He had spent all night and all morning forming a game plan. Wait for Belphegor to wake up with a terrible hang over and bring him a bottle of water. Sure, it wasn’t much, but Dean had been in the boys position plenty of times and knew that this one one of the quickest ways to gain his favor. If there had been someone to bring Dean the basics after a bad night, it would have made his life a lot easier.

He grabbed one of the cold water bottles he had thrown in the fridge for this exact reason and headed up the over the top stair case at the center of the house. The house itself was ridiculously large considering only four people had lived there for so long. Even with Dean making five, he wasn’t taking up that much space. He figured their extravagant lifestyle must have something to do with the less than stellar conditions both Sam and Cas were raised in.

Dean rounded the corner, trying to pinpoint where the bathroom was on this floor. Jack had excitedly given him a full tour of the whole house last night, but it was a big place and Dean wasn’t great with directions. A loud retching coming from two doors down pointed Dean in the right direction. At least, he hoped it did. If Belphegor didn’t make it to the bathroom before vomiting then Dean didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done that exact same things a million times before. But cleaning up throw up wasn’t anywhere on his to do list.

“Uh, hey kid.” Dean said, lightly rapping his knuckles on the door. “I brought you some water. Figured you might need it. Um, groan in protest if you’re not decent.”

When no reply came he figured either Belphegor was desperate for the water or passed out. He was really hoping for the first one. Slowly opening the door, Dean frowned at the sight before him. The half naked teen sat on the floor, head resting on his arms, yet still practically in the toilet bowl. It was a painful sight to see that dragged up decades of memories. 

Belphegor tilted his head, looking to Dean. The hair clung to his face with sweat, and Dean suddenly couldn’t blame the boy for being shirtless. Just how much had he drank? One heavy arm reached up to flush the toilet, which Dean refused to look into, then stuck out in acceptance of the gift he had brought. He rolled his eyes when Belphegor’s first instinct was to cradle the ice cold bottle to his flushed chest rather than drink it.

“Come on, drink that one and I’ll go grab you another one to hold onto.” Dean told the boy, ignoring the way he glared up at his from his place on the floor. Hesitantly Belphegor did what he was told and Dean headed back down for another bottle. He was glad he had the foresight to put several water bottles in the fridge. It was a primal urge to crave cold water for a hangover. Just like wanting greasy food and a twelve hour nap.

By the time he made his way back to the bathroom Belphegor had drunk more than half the water and was resting the bottle between his neck and his arm in an attempt to cool down. If Dean knew where they kept the ice packs, he would have grabbed one of those as well. Unfortunately he wasn't comfortable raiding his brothers fridge. 

“Drink.” He placed the other bottle on the floor only to have Belphegor snatch it up immediately and place it in his lap. “And when you’re feeling better, make your way downstairs. I know just the food to fix you.”

Dean shut the door behind him, giving the boy some privacy. Sure, it was just the two of them in the house, but that didn’t mean Dean wanted to listen to him hurl. He was sure the teen would make his way down eventually. Greasy food was good for the soul. He just needed enough fluids in him to be able to make his way down the stairs. Dean knew well enough that mobility wasn’t always an option first thing after waking up with that kind of hang over.

It wasn’t until around forty minutes later that Dean heard a stool in the kitchen being dragged across the floor. It was about time, too. He was getting ready to go give Belphegor another water, as well as another invitation to food. Dean wandered into the kitchen only to find Belphegor at the island, head down and finally wearing a shirt. Without a word he went to the fridge for another water before taking out the items he had already decided on. Eggs. Eggs, eggs, and eggs were Dean’s go to meal for curing a hangover. He wasn’t sure why, but runny eggs and toast was his favorite, though only when battling a deadly headache.

“Drink and eat your food and I’ll bring you some pain pills.” Dean said, breaking out the best looking frying pan he could find. A lot of people liked taking pain killers as soon as they woke up. He advised against it, knowing they were easier on the stomach with a meal. Ignoring Belphegor’s groan of a response, Dean got to cooking.

Cooking was something Dean had always loved doing, though he hadn’t really had a chance in recent years. Most of his meals came premade or canned. But cooking was like riding a bike, you never forgot how. And within minutes Dean had whipped up some of the best looking eggs he had made in a very long time.

“Alright dig in and I’ll go find those pills.” He placed the mound of food down in front of his nephew, who had unsurprisingly not moved an inch since making his way down there.

“Downstairs bathroom. Top shelf of the cabinet.” The boy grumbled out in a gruff voice. It wasn’t much, but at least now he was talking. And when Dean came back with a handful of pills to Belphegor rapidly shovelling food down his face, he knew that maybe his plan was going to work after all.


	4. Chapter 4

“Why are you doing this?” The question came unexpectedly and Dean nearly jumped at the sound of Belphegor’s voice. They had been in total silence for so long that Dean almost forgot the boy was there at all. He had been handwashing all the dishes he dirtied in making breakfast while Belphegor finished up his food.

“The dishes? Because it’s my mess so I should clean it up.” Dean said over his shoulder. Then he shrugged and added, “Plus I haven’t figured out how to use the dishwasher yet.”

“No. Why’d you cook for me?” The question had been innocent enough, so why were the words laced with so much attitude?

“I’ve been in your shoes before. There’s nothing that cures a hangover better than runny eggs.” Dean told him. It was as close to the truth as he could get. “For me at least. I can try making something else next time if you want.”

“Next time?” Belphegor asked as he slid his empty plate across the island top for Dean to wash.

“Yeah well,” He did his best to make the statement come off as nonchalant. The first step in his plan was to befriend his nephew, and what better way to do that than with food? “I figured this isn’t the first or last time you’ve been that hungover. Might as well experiment with what makes it go away the fastest. Besides, I ain’t got much else to do.”

“Oh… Well, the eggs were good, but maybe something with a little more meat next time?” The confusion was evident on Belphegor’s face. Dean doubted either of the boys Father’s had ever been this casual about his drinking habit. He filed it away for later, figuring the quickest way to gain his trust was to do the opposite of what he was used to his Dad’s doing. Then in a flash that confusion was replaced with something more devious. “I do love shoving sausage down my throat first thing in the morning.”

Dean stood dumbfounded as the boy smirked and left the room. That was… odd. He didn’t have any Uncle’s himself, but even if he did, Dean doubted he would’ve made a gay joke like that to them. Because that’s what it was, right? The tone of his voice, the twinkle in his eye. Dean couldn’t even find it in him to laugh because the comment had hit him like a ton of bricks. He was beginning to see why Sam and Cas were so fed up with Belphegor. The boy had no manners.

Clearly they had enough interaction for one day. Dean wasn’t even sure what to say to Belphegor after that, so he was thankful that the boy spent the rest of the day in his room. Hours later when Sam, Cas, and Jack returned from their thing, Dean had decided against telling his Brother about what happened. He had gotten Belphegor to talk, kind of. So, did it really matter what he said? Not enough for Dean to repeat.

“How’d it go?” Dean asked the trio as they made their way into the living room. Dean had been searching through the stations on tv for the last half hour, content on looking rather than actually finding something to watch. It had been a long, long time since he had access to a tv this good.

“It was… eventful.” Cas said, looking pained as he searched for the right word. Something told Dean that ‘eventful’ wasn’t it.

“It was not.” Sam said, shaking his head. “It was boring. Or do you not remember that through your little nap?”

“I wasn’t asleep.” Cas’ protest fell on deaf ears, though he didn’t seem to mind too much.

“Yes you were, Dad.” Jack rolled his eyes at the older man. Dean wasn’t exactly sure what sort of college thing the three of them had gone to, and he wasn’t about to ask. It had to be some sort of orientation/fundraiser/pta meeting type snooze fest. Were those even things they did at colleges? Jack seemed just as bored as his parents were. It was the little moments like that which made Dean thankful for being childfree. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an essay to finish.”

No sooner was Jack up the stairs and out of sight that the two men before him practically pounced on him with questions. ‘How did it go?’ ‘Did he say anything to you?’ ‘Did he head out for the night yet?’

“It went fine.” It wasn’t a lie. Besides Belphegor turning into a little shit at the very last second their interaction had been fine. “I made him some food, gave him some water, we talked a little bit and he went back upstairs. He’s still here.”

“That’s it?” Sam asked at the same time Cas questioned, “He’s still here?”

“Yes that’s it. Yes he’s still here.” Dean shrugged. “Dude had a serious hangover, I can’t imagine he’d go out again tonight.”

That was a lie. Dean had done that exact thing more times than he could count. Belphegor probably would, too, though he hoped otherwise. Clearly the drinking and partying was a huge issue for Sam and Cas. Staying home for one night would ease their stress as well as reassure them Dean was actually helping. Though Dean knew the chances of that happening were slim to none.

As if summoned by the mere mention of his name Belphegor’s raspy voice sounded from somewhere upstairs immediately followed by Jack’s. They were too far away for Dean to hear, but he could tell they were arguing. Nothing sounded major and neither Sam nor Cas rushed to stop it from happening. Maybe twins were just like that sometimes? Once again the glorious decision to remain childfree echoed loudly through Dean’s entire being alongside the slam of a bedroom door.

“They do that a lot?” Dean asked, looking between the pair. Cas just sighed and nodded solemnly.

To no ones surprise Belphegor came sauntering into the room, passing the trio without a spare glance. Just as the night before the boy wore something leathery and skin tight. Dean’s eyes were immediately on him and he felt himself blush at his action. Thankfully no one noticed anything odd as Sam and Cas were staring as well.

“Heading out, honey?” Cas asked the boy who hardly spared him a glance. Instead Belphegor’s eyes were on Dean and Dean alone. He squirmed in discomfort at the boys gaze. It seemed almost predatory, though he couldn’t understand why.

“Obviously.” Whatever spell Belphegor had Dean under finally broke as he rolled his eyes and glared at his Father.

“Be safe.” Cas smiled weakly at his son with a sadness in his eyes that broke Dean’s heart. The memory of their past friendship came crashing down hard around him. Out of all the bad things that happened to Cas, Dean had never seen him so sad.

Instead of answering Belphegor pushed his way past, heading for the door with a pep in his step and a twinkle in his eye. He seemed much too cheery for someone who had been practically knocking of Death’s door this morning. Dean yearned for the days where he could recover that easily from drinking. Nowadays it took more of a toll on his body than ever. Being old sucked.

“Have fun.” Dean blurted out, sending his nephew a thumbs up and a passive glance. He didn’t mean to say it, and didn’t care for the shifty eyes his Brother threw at him afterwards. However a shit eating grin spread across Belphegor’s face and Dean knew he had said the right thing. Gain his trust, then change his ways.

“I always do, baby.” Belphegor winked at him before leaving the house and climbing into the passenger side of a car Dean didn’t realize had even pulled up.

“What?” Dean squirmed at the look of disbelief coming from Sam’s face. Cas just looked disappointed, but not surprised.

“Dean, we need to talk.”


	5. Chapter 5

“I’m sorry, what?” Dean asked, unsure of whether or not he was having a stroke. He must be, because what he was hearing simply didn’t make sense. “You think he’s going to try to sleep with me? His Uncle? I’m twenty five years older than him. And his Uncle.”

Dean emphasized the Uncle part of the equation once more, staring at the two men before him as if they each had an extra three heads. What they were saying was insane. So why were they looking at him so seriously?

“Yes but, not by blood.” Cas sighed, looking like he would rather be anywhere but having this conversation. “I know family doesn’t start or end with blood, but Belphegor seems to think otherwise. Believe me, we’ve had a million arguments with him about this. Just because we aren’t his birth Father’s-”

Cas’ voice cut off with a crack as he held back tears. Clearly it was a touchy subject and Dean didn’t want to press further. Still, he needed to, since what he was hearing still sounded insane.

“He has a thing for older men.” Sam interjected, steering the conversation back to its original intent.

“So… you think he’s going to what? Seduce me? You do know I’m not like, a predator or anything, right?” The thought made his skin crawl. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation about his own nephew, much less with the boys Parents.

“I never said you were, Dean.” Sam jumped on the offensive. Clearly having this discussion was a source of discomfort all around. “But Belphegor is persuasive and determined. We just wanted to give you a fair warning.”

“And you still thought it was a good idea to try and make us best buds?” Dean frowned, failing to see the logic behind it.

“You’d be a good influence on him whether you think so or not. Plus we know you wont give in to his delusions, Dean. We trust you.” Cas told him, looking so sincere that for a second Dean couldn’t remember why he had been worried in the first place.

“I still think you’re crazy.” Dean’s mind flashed with the sausage comment from that morning as well as the wink goodbye Belphegor had given him. “But thanks for the warning, I suppose.”

Dean could hardly sleep that night, too busy of thinking of his Brother’s comments. Cas and Sam had seemed so confident Belphegor would try and pull a move on Dean. However Dean couldn’t imagine that being the case. It was weird. It was wrong. He was over two decades older than the boy, as well as being his Uncle, and also just a shitty person all around. Still, if Sam and Cas were that worried about it Dean would keep an eye out for anything strange. How exactly do you turn down your nephew’s sexual advances? Hopefully Dean would never need to find out.

The next day Dean felt exhausted despite sleeping in the most comfortable bed he had been in in years. He had done his fair share of couch surfing, so any bed was better by default, however this one was clearly superior to anything he had ever had in his life. Memory foam engulfed him, cradling him close like they were meant to be. Soft, plush pillows lined the bed, providing ample cuddle material. Silk sheets enveloped his body, caressing him in places he had never been touched before. If it wasn’t for Sam banging on his bedroom door Dean would probably never leave this small personal Heaven of a bed.

“Dude it’s like noon. Get up.” Sam called through the door, banging for the third time in ten minutes. It’s a damn shame, too. Dean had almost fallen back asleep. 

“Fine.” He grumbled back at the door, letting his heart break as he crawled lazily out of bed. As comfortable as his sleeping arrangements were Dean had stayed up way too late last night to get enough sleep for the whole day. Overthinking and sleep did not mix. He ripped open the bedroom door ready to tear Sammy a new one only to be faced with a much smaller, infinitely peppier Jack.

“Goodmorning, Uncle Dean. Dad sent me up here to invite you to lunch.” Jack smiled brightly at him.

“Lunch? I haven't even had breakfast yet.”

“It’s after noon.” Jack’s eyebrows turned down slightly, though he still seemed cheery.

“First meal of the day is always breakfast, no matter what time it is.”

“Oh… Then would you like to join me for breakfast?” The boy asked hesitantly earning a chuckle from Dean.

“Sure thing, Kid. Let me get dressed.” Dean told him.

Some time later Dean was dressed and ready to eat. His stomach growled angrily at him and for once Dean found himself wishing he had woken up earlier. To his surprise Jack was waiting for him by the door. If he had known they were going out out he would have dressed better. Oh well, too late now. The pair argued for a while on who would drive, with Dean eventually winning. That was one fight he would never lose. Dean drove Baby everywhere, no exceptions.

The little restaurant was modest and Dean couldn’t help but be grateful. Jack had clearly been raised extremely high class, so being brought somewhere so down to earth was a relief whether Dean would admit it or not. All Dean needed in life was a bacon burger and fries. Who could ask for more?

The pair sat there for a long time, talking about everything and nothing. Jack chatted about his schooling some more, which Dean still understood very little of. Politics had never been his favorite, and having a nephew in the field sadly wouldn’t change that. They talked about Sam and Cas. They talked about Baby. They talked about everything but Dean’s past, and for that he was extremely grateful. It wasn’t something Dean liked talking about, much less even thinking about. He found comfort in the boy, enjoying his presence despite Jack’s overly chatty nature. Now if he could just get this level of openness out of Belphegor things would be fine. He couldn’t help but wonder how the two boys ended up so different, though he supposed you could say the same for Sam and himself. Hopefully Belphegor got back on the right track soon, and Dean was determined to help.


	6. Chapter 6

The next time Dean had to take care of Belphegor was on a Wednesday of all days. Why he was getting shitfaced on a Tuesday night was beyond Dean, but the man had been there a few times himself. Everynight was a weekend night when you had no job and weren’t going to school. With rich parents Belphegor was clearly living the life. Still, no matter how different they were raised Dean could see a little of himself budding in the boy. It was time to nip that bud and change Bephegor’s ways.

“Bacon’s ready.” Dean called to the shuffling sound down the hall. He had only heard Belphegor so far going from the bedroom to the bathroom. The sweet smell of bacon had done the rest, luring the boy out of bed and down the stairs in search for the most delicious substance known to man.

For the most part Belphegor looked better than the last time they had done this. He wasn’t pale, his hair stuck out wildly rather than clinging to his face with sweat, and his eyes even perked up at the sight of food. That last bit was all the reassurance Dean needed that he was on the right track in gaining Belphegor’s trust.

“Now I know you love sausage,” Dean threw the remark back at the boy, whose eyes darted out searching for the reason. Clearly he hadn’t expected Dean to take his innuendo and use it so casually. “So I’m making that next. I’m more of a bacon man myself so I made that first. Didn’t know when you’d be down.”

Belphegor still eyed him suspiciously as Dean handed over a water bottle. Clearly he wasn’t as hungover as last time, but the water would help anyways. Next he poured them both tall glasses of orange juice, the perfect breakfast drink.

“This is really good.” Belphegor finally spoke up for the first time that morning. He had a mouth full of bacon and wide, loving eyes. Dean couldn’t blame him. Bacon was just like that sometimes. Well, all the time really. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Kid.” He turned his back to the boy, instead focusing on the sausage sizzling in the pan. Sam would probably have a heart attack if he knew the two of them were having a meat lovers breakfast, but hey. He asked for results and Dean was determined to give them. “I should be thanking you. I haven’t cooked in ages. Always bouncing around… Cheap hotels do not come with kitchens.”

Dean laughed it off as a joke when it was anything but. The only time he managed to cook was as a thankyou meal for anyone foolish enough to let him stay a few days on their couch. Any other time he was living off of canned food, fast food, and occasionally no food. It was a hard life and Dean didn’t wish it on anyone, much less his own Nephew.

Belphegor didn’t reply and Dean wasn’t sure if he was too busy shoving food into his mouth or if he just had nothing to say. Though perhaps the first one made more sense. Belphegor had seemed like enough of a dick in previous encounters to make fun of Dean’s less than ideal living situations.

By the time the sausage was finally done, the boys pile of bacon was nearly gone. Two lonely pieces sat off to the side of the plate calling out to Dean. As he plopped a big pile of sausage down before the boy, he simultaneously snatched one of the slices of bacon, immediately shoving it in his mouth.

“Did you just steal my bacon?” Belphegor quirked an eyebrow at him.

“No.” Dean said through a mouthful of stolen bacon. A hint of a smile played at Belphegor’s lips as he watched Dean. Then he grabbed the other piece and dropped it onto Dean’s plate. The older man couldn’t help but grin. Sharing bacon was the fastest way to his heart. Maybe the two of them could be actual friends after all. “So what’s on the menu for next time? I’ll make sure it gets added to the shopping list. Your Dad’s don’t eat much besides green.”

Belphegor let out a little chuckle and Dean was once again struck at just how different he and Jack really were. “You know how to cook pancakes?”

“Do I know how to- Kid, you’re talking to the pancake master. Plain, chocolate chip, blueberry, raspberry. You name it, I can make it.” He pointed a finger as if emphasizing his point. Could he make pancakes? Could a cat meow? Could Batman save Gotham?

“Chocolate chip.”

“Chocolate chip it is.” Dean told the boy who was looking less suspicious and more comfortable as time went on. It wasn’t Jack levels of comfort, talking about everything and anything until he was blue in the face, but it would do. Clearly this was something Dean was going to have to put a lot of time and effort into, and he was more than willing to do so.

“So, umm, tell me about you.” Dean said in an attempt to start up the conversation. Everything he knew about Belphegor was superficial. He knew how people perceived him, and that wouldn’t be enough to connect on a deeper level. Connection built trust, and trust was key for Dean to try and get Belphegor to do something meaningful with his life rather than waste it away of alcohol and anger. “I missed out on the first nineteen years of my nephews life, catch me up to speed a little.”

“I’m sure my Dad’s have told you everything you need to know about me. I am the family disappointment after all.” Belphegor said, mo longer looking up at Dean. Clearly this was a touchy subject. Dean could work with that.

“I don’t care what they have to say, I care what you have to say.”

Big eyes flashed to his and they looked at each other for a while, Belphegor no doubt searching Dean for something malicious. The boy would never find it, but Dean let him try. Even without the guidance of his Brother Dean would still try to get to know his Nephew. They were family after all. Besides, one black sheep always called to another willingly or not.

“What do you want to know?” Belphegor finally relented.

“What’s your favorite color?” Dean decided to start small. Despite being family they were still strangers. He didn’t expect big revelations so soon.

“Really?” Belphegor stared at him with such sass that Dean nearly chocked on his drink. “Blue.”

“What do you mean ‘really’? What else should I be asking you?”

“Well most people go straight for ‘What are you going to school for?’ ‘When are you going back to school?’ ‘What do you want to do with your life?’ You know, the good stuff that makes me seem like a piece of shit.” Belphegor told him. Clearly things never changed. Dean had been asked that a million times at nineteen, and every single time he had wanted to curl up and die. It wasn’t something he enjoyed and he had no desire to put someone else through it.

“Well I’m not most people. Next question.” Dean scanned the room for an answer, finally settling on something he thought would get the ball rolling. “What’s there to do for fun in an uppity place like this?”

Belphegor grinned.


	7. Chapter 7

“This is crazy.” Dean muttered to himself more than anything. Of course Belphegor overheard and rolled his eyes, but said nothing in return. They both knew it was crazy, but that didn’t stop Dean from trailing alongside his Nephew into the land of the unknown. A club. The two of them had left as soon as it got dark but before Sam and Cas got home. He wondered what his Brother would think when he got home and found Dean gone. Would Dean even bother telling him the truth later on?

The steady thrum of music pulsed through the club, setting Dean’s entire body on fire. His insides lit up with a feeling he hadn’t dabbled in for a long time. Thrill. The lights, the music, the bodies, the alcohol. Coming here would definitely turn out to be a mistake, but Dean wasn’t ready to deal with that consequence just yet. For now he was going to have fun, and a lot of it.

Side by side the pair walked up to the bar and ordered drinks. Dean kept his cool as Belphegor handed over a fake ID to the bartender. The woman eyed it carefully before handing it back to the boy with his very fruity drink. Dean took his whiskey and walked away with Belphegor, who was beginning to open up in a way he had never seen before.

“Fake ID? Really?” Dean lowered his eyebrows trying his hardest to pass his look off as disappointment. That failed when Belphegor handed over his ID for Dean to see. It was fantastic. If he hadn’t heard form Sam and Cas specifically that Belphegor was 19 he absolutely would have believed the ID marking the kid as 22. It was a good age. Not old enough to raise any eyebrows, but still young enough that Belphegor could easily get away with having that baby face. “This must have cost a fortune.”

“I made it myself.” The kid shrugged before downing half his drink in one gulp.

“Woah, really?” Dean eyed the ID once more looking for anything that would give away its falsehood. Still, it looked as real as they come. “You could make a fortune with these.”

Dean chuckled to himself before scowling. He was supposed to be charading as a good influence. Telling Belphegor to sell fake ID’s was not something a good influence would do. It was also very illegal, so there was that.

“Not really into the ‘helping people’ business.” Belphegor told him again, eyeing the crowd. Dean looked at the meshing bodies and felt momentarily out of place. He was far too old for this kind of scene, but no one seemed to care or even notice. In fact there was more than a few older faces peering out of the crowd at him. He wasn’t sure whether to be happy he wasn’t alone or upset that there were older men praying on younger people that might be too drunk to say no. 

“Neither is your Brother apparently. Politician? Not exactly a poster child of helping the people.”

“Yeah, well I’m sure Jackie would be some upstanding, Bernie Sanders type ‘one for all’ type of monkey-suit wearing know-it-all.” He rolled his eyes at the thought. Clearly there was a lot of Brotherly hate going on between the pair of them. Dean could use it to his advantage, though he decided not to. What kind of monster would pit two Brothers against each other?

“You couldn’t catch me dead in a suit.” Dean changed the subject. Sipping at his whiskey more. The overwhelming urge to throw the whole glass back and order another was barely suppressed by Sam’s disappointed face in his head. He took another, larger sip and then a deep breath. Dean could 100% get through this night without getting blackout drunk.

“I don’t know, Dean. I think you’d look pretty good in a birthday suit.” Belphegor smirked at him. Dean chuckled before shaking his head. It was a good joke. Quick, whitty. He just hoped that’s all it was. And without Belphegor trying anything else Dean was hesitant to call it flirting. He was willing to go the extra mile to keep the plausible deniability going. For good measure Dean downed the rest of his drink and ordered them another round, surprised to see Belphegor doing the same.

“So, this place seems nice.” Dean lied. Well, mostly. As far as clubs went, he had been to worse looking ones. Still, the place wasn’t exactly high class.

“It’s alright.” Belphegor shrugged, already working on his next drink. Thankfully Dean found his last ounce of self control and decided to pace himself with his drink. “I usually go to the gay bar on the ther side of town, but the bouncer that works tonight knows I’m underage. Besides, the people here ain’t half bad.”

Dean looked into the crowd of dancing bodies and shrugged. Maybe twenty years ago he would have been all over every pretty face that even looked his way. Now it felt dirty. Wrong. The last thing he needed was to take home someone else sporting a fake ID. Prison didn’t agree with him. Besides, he couldn’t bring anyone home as long as he was staying with Sammy. It would be weird.

A face in the crowd caught his attention, mainly because it was staring back at him. Or, more accurately, them. A man, younger than Dean, though older than Belphegor made his way over to the pair of them. He locked eyes with Belphegor, and Dean could feel the boy shift slightly next to him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the boy down his drink once more.

“Yeah, uh, I didn’t think I would ditch you so soon, Dean, but I think I’m going to head out.” He said, handing the empty glass over to Dean, who stared back confused.

“Head out? We just got here.” He frowned before staring back at the man who had stopped a few feet away, clearly waiting for Belphegor to approach.

“I know. My bad, really. I didn’t think I’d get a catch so quick.” He shrugged, nodding his head toward the mystery man. “But I don’t know, if you want to hang around a bit, I might be back later? He doesn’t really look like the ‘take me home’ type of guy. But, you know, there’s the bathroom, his car, an alley. I’m sure we’ll make do. My bets on the alley if you decide to join.”

Dean took a step back out of habit. He didn’t even know how to react to that. Belphegor had flat out told him he was about to hook up in public with that stranger, which as uncomfortable as it made him Dean couldn’t be mad. He had done it back in the day, too. However the invitation to join was what had thrown him off. That was much harder to ignore. “You can’t-”

“Dean, you may be Daddy material but you’re not my Father. You can’t tell me what to do.” Belphegor rolled his eyes and Dean could feel their connection slipping. He needed to back pedal fast if he wanted to help in the way Sam and Cas had asked him to do.

“Let me finish. You can’t mess around in the alley, I think I saw a police cruiser down the street.” Dean lied, feeling his insides curdle. Still, the tension that had grown between them dissipated at once. “You may be underage for drinking but you’re old enough to be a registered sex offender. Try the bathroom instead. Oh, and uh, if it ever comes up around your Dad’s, I tried talking you out of doing it at all. And we weren’t at a club together, either.”

Belphegor laughed, nodding in agreement. As the boy walked away Dean felt even more conflicted before. He should leave now, there wasn’t much else to do. There was no one he wanted to leave the club with, and even the drink in his hand seemed oddly undesirable. Still, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Belphegor alone with that man. Dean was sure his Nephew wouldn’t need him, though he took a seat at the bar just in case.


End file.
